Out Of Control
by Merina Thropp
Summary: Elphaba starts to lose her grip. Glinda struggles to pull her from consuming grief and obsession to find out the true reason why she must have those jewelled shoes. Gelphie friendship, Fiyeraba, oneshot.


**I'VE BEEN NOMINATED FOR THIS ONESHOT in the Fourth Annual Wicked Awards, and couldn't be happier! Thank you so much to everyone for nominating me! Now, if you could VOTE for me, too...well, that would be wonderful :)**** just click the link on my profile page!**

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**S****o, some actresses portray Elphaba as falling pretty much to pieces after the Nessa/Fiyero deaths, causing quite a few screws to come loose which are then replaced by Glinda during For Good, and of course with the help of Fiyero's letter. I know not everyone sees Elphaba this way, which is absolutely fine – but this oneshot most definitely follows this more unstable, bookverse version of Elphaba, from just after March of the Witch Hunters.**

**Thoughts? Questions? Comments? That little 'review' button is waiting for you…and yes, I do have many moments of Defying Grammar due to Elphaba's state of mind…**

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_She killed Nessa._

I stand, breath heavy and fast. She, creature, girl, Nessa, checked-blue-and-white, terrified, sweet face, stands also. Trembling, trembling. She is frightened. So frightened. And oh, feels so good to see her frightened. See her cower, tremble, tremble like Nessa must have trembled before that house crushing flat upon her, Nessa, oh Nessa, Nessa, _Nessa_…

I tell her how long she has to live.

_Come now, Elphaba, you can't promise that. You can't kill the little girl. Little Dorothy. Nessa's murderer. Little Nessa…_

Downstairs again. Pacing backwards, forwards, hands twisting. Waiting. What am I waiting for? Chistery. Need Chistery. News of him…news of Fiyero…the name hurts…oh Nessa the name hurts, want to scream, shriek, smash every window…

Little murderer still crying. Crying like Nessa would cry, nightmare, comfort, sing lullaby, sleep…

She won't stop. Still won't stop.

_Ugh._ Sick of it. Furious.

Over at the trap door. Yank it open, hiss at her to stay quiet. Maybe I'll kill her. Right now. Choke her with bare hands. Something to do. Pass time. Feel good.

_You won't kill her. You can't kill her. She's crying. Like Nessa would have cried, if she were just as frightened…_

Snarl at her again. Get those shoes off her feet if she wants Auntie Em. Hate her. _Hate _her. Little murderer.

Need Chistery…

Sound of wings, fluttering wings. Chistery. Back at last. But no news. Need news. Though news will hurt. Hurt like Fiyero.

Want to shriek again.

_Oh Nessa it hurts, it hurts, it hurts…_

"Elphie!"

Whip round. See a beautiful lady, all blue and white, glinty, glindy, Glinda…

_Glinda…_

Oz, I can't deal with this now…

"Go away," voice says.

"They're coming for you!"

_So frightened, just like Nessa, little Nessa, my pretty Nessa, murderer, my pretty…_

"Go away –!"

"Elphie -!"

"_Go away_ –_!_"

"But they're coming for you –!"

"Then _let_ them come!"

Shove past the thin frame of her, reach my cloak, sling it round shoulders. Warm. Safe. Dark.

Turn to trapdoor, rip it open. Yell over bawling little murderer.

"_One more snivel, you brat, and I'm coming down there, do you hear?_"

Half-yell, half-shriek; horrible sound. Clutching at ears with one hand. _Sick _of it. Sick of her_._ Sick of it all.

Sick of _life_…

"Elphie –"

"Don't call me that –"

Name hurts too much, burns like memories it brings back…

"Elphie –"

"I said, _don't call me that -!_"

"Elphaba, please!" woman is begging, Glinda begging, and Oz, _she looks so beautiful_, creamy white, forget-me-knot blue, golden curls…

I stare, panting. Drink in. Exquisite sight. She talks, jabbers. Don't hear. Won't hear.

"Elphie, listen to me, you have to let her go, she's only a little girl, and poor Dodo's barely more than a puppy, you really don't know what you're doing –"

"I know exactly what I'm doing," voice snaps from my mouth, _my_ mouth, but the words aren't true, know they aren't true, because I don't know, I just want, I just need, I just…

_Nessa…Fiyero…_

…and it hurts, it hurts, it _hurts_…

"Elphaba," Glinda says. Reaches for me, hands to take mine. Whip them away, glare, glower, searing hatred. Perfect blonde. Loved. Adored. Hate her. Loathe her. "Elphaba, please, listen to me – this isn't you, you're not thinking straight, you are _out of control –_"

"I am nothing of the sort -!"

Not true, and I know it…

"You can't do this, Elphie -!"

"I can do whatever I want," voice mutters. Push past her again, dresses brushing, pretty blue and sparkles instantly dirtied by filthy clothes, and when was the last time I washed, or changed, or _anything…?_ "I'm the wicked witch of the west, I can do whatever I want, I can _have _whatever I want, and I will, I _will_, I'll get those shoes if the last thing I -!"

"But _why, _Elphie, why? Oz, they're just shoes!"

The girl sniffling, snuffling. Loudly, too loudly. Stamp hard on the trapdoor, snarling, want her to _shut up_…!

"Elphie –"

"_Don't call me that -!_"

Voice almost a roar. Roaring anger. Fury. Pain…

"_Elphie –_"

"_Shut up!_"

"Elphaba, _please,_" she chokes, pretty face crumpling, eyes watering, tears trickling… "_Please, _just listen to me a moment, let me help you…!"

"_Help _me!" I spit, and then laugh; cackle, hurts, throat grating, because help is weakness, help is giving up, help is to trust, to _trust, _never, never, _never again…_

"I mean it, Elphie!"

And she reaches, reaches, pale little hand towards me. Skitter back. Fear. Anger at the fear. Don't want to be touched. Can't be touched. Untouchable, unmentionable, taint, abomination, distortion, wicked, wicked, _wicked…_

Sneer at her. "_You_ want to help_ me_…"

"Yes, Elphie, I mean it, I mean it!"

And her face lights, shines, glowing sapphire eyes…

More laughter, rasping up throat. Breaking out. Rough. Harsh. Bitter. Ugliest of cackles.

"Get them for me, then!"

Voice is all wrong. Trying sarcasm. Disdain. Humour. Failing utterly.

"Elphie_,_" she chokes, tears again. "Elphie, I can'tdo that for you, you know I can't –"

"Then get out."

"_Elphie_," she sobs, face red, eyes misty, hands reaching again. Slap away. Won't be, can't be touched. "Tell me, why, _why _those shoes, just stop a moment, think, _why _do you need them, _why _do you want them, what is it about them -!"

_No, no, no, no, _can't answer, won't answer, won't _think, _won't _feel, _won't let her know, can't let her know -!

"Get out –"

"But Elphie –"

"I saidget out,Glinda –"

- _Glinda – _

"Please, just _t-tell _me," she sobs, trembling, shaking, hands grasping, tears streaming, oh Glin, Glin, _Glin… _"Please, Elphie, just _w-why_, why the shoes, are they – are they – _powerful, _or – or – _enchanted – _do you need them for the Resistance and the Animals, or the Wizard, or Fiyero –?"

"- _NO!_"

"_Elphie,_" she gasps, and shock now, horror, but can't see it, can't feel it, just feel the agony, the burning, the hatred, my fault, _all my fault_…

"…Elphie…!"

_Fiyero…_

…_Fiyero Tiggular, Winkie prince, Captain of the Gale Force, beautiful, brainless, perfect, stupid, wonderful, love, love, love…_

…it hurts…oh Oz, it hurts…so much pain…

…so much _agony…_

"Elphie…"

Hand on my shoulder. _No! _Shake it off, get it away, slap away, magic spell, words spring to lips…

"Oh Elphie…what's happened to you…?"

…_hurts…_

…_hurts so much…_

…Fiyero…

…Nessa…

…_all my fault…_

Hand on my neck. Warm, gentle, soft. So soft. Glinda. Every time, Glinda.

_Glinty, glindy, Glinda…_

...little girl still blubbering, still wining, still wearing…my…shoes…

…_my shoes…_

"…_my shoes_…"

"What? Elphie? Elphie…?"

"…they're_…my…_shoes_…_I…I _need them, _Glinda_…_"  
Sniffing. Choking.

Little choking blue-white-checked voice…

"_Why, _Elphie? Tell me why, please, can you tell me why…?"

"…_Nessa…_"  
Oh, it hurts. It hurts. It hurts.

My lips are moving. Speaking. Letting Glinda touch…touch the abomination, stain, wretched, vile distortion of nature…

_Touch me…_

"…wanting to give her something…something _wonderful…_nothing good enough…"

Could see the spell book. Grimmerie, polished wood floor. Floor of mansion. See the words, mouth the letters…

"…perfect gift…give the wearer, the beholder…what they wanted…"

Glinda gasping. "Whatever they wanted…?"

"…heart's desire…most desperate, most raging, most…want_…need…_"

"And Ness – your sister's…?"

"_To walk…_" my mouth hissed, word twisting, snarling, burning. "To _walk._"

Don't want to keep going. Don't want to let words come.

Reach up. Touch hand on my cheek. Warm. Silky soft. So soft. Glinda.

"But…" she murmurs, face creasing, little frown. "But…Elphie…"

"Now they're mine."

"But you said Nessa -!"

"_Don't say her name!_"

"Elphie -!"

Away from hand. Away from Glinda. Up on feet, breath rancid, too fast, gasping, chest so tight, too tight_…_

"…_Elphie…_!"

"I _have _to have them!" my voice gasping, crying, broken, won't tell, have to tell, someone, _someone…_ "Need – want – have to have them_, I have to have those shoes!_"

"And for _what?_" she chokes, sobs, pleads. "For _what, _Elphie? What is it? What's _your _heart's desire, your want, your need_, _that you would have the shoes for, what, Elphie,for _Fiyero -?_"

"_NO!_"

No use, _no use, _Fiyero, dead, gone, too late, too late, and my fault – _agony, everything, everywhere, hands round my stomach, in hair, tearing, ripping…_

Want to scratch and tear and claw out every last _strand…_

"For _me! _For _Fiyero_! For Wizard, and everything, for _everything, everything!_ For _life! _For the _reason – _the _cause – _the _distortion, _the _stain, _the _abomination, _the _vile, hideous, _the_ this_, Glinda, _THIS!_"  
Hands clashing, slashing at each other, at neck, at _face, _at _colour, _at _stain, _at _distortion, _at _vile, _at _hideous skin, skin, skin…_

"Get it_ off! _Get it _away!_ For _me, _selfish, _selfish, _worth me, worth _Fiyero, _beautiful, worth _something, _worth anything_, anything, _and _Nessa – my fault – my fault, always my fault, Galinda -!"_

- _Galinda, Galinda, wrong name, but right name, and Upland, and Shiz, and little white uniform, and pink flowers in lank hair and dances at ballrooms and whispered secrets at night and books and libraries and lessons and Fiyero and love, happiness, perfect, nothingness, _no more faults, _no more mistakes, no more death…no more hurt…_

No more pain…

"…oh Elphie…"

…_no more pain…_

"…Elphie…"

…tears…

"…_Elphie_…"

…water…pricking at the back of eyes…

_No…_

Don't cry. Never cry. Haven't. Won't. Never. Never…

Water gathering, building, flowing…trickling…

…down, down, down cheeks…

And hands. Arms. Round waist, shoulders, hands stroking my hair, holding me, touching me…touching the vile…the abomination…the distortion…

Golden curls against my face, cheek, soft, sweet-smelling…

Bury my face in them. Wipe tears. More come. More. More. Too many to wipe.

Knees buckling. Trembling. Falling. On the floor, now. Held. Warm. Safe. Pale little arms. Glinda-arms.

_And it hurts. It hurts. It hurts…_

"Glinda…"

"I'm here," voice is saying, choking, biting back own tears. "I'm here, Elphie, I'm here, it's all right, it's going to be fine – oh Elphie, don't cry, please, don't cry…"

No use. No use at all. Crying already, tears streaming, soaking, matting golden curls…

Want to close eyes. To feel. To be held. To be warm. Safe.

To be with Glinda.

And then…

_Oh Oz. _

Want to stop hurting. Want to end all.

Want Nessa. Mother. Father. Fiyero. Oh, of all of them, all of them, all of them…Fiyero…

Want to die.

Yes.

Ready now. Ready.

Ready…to die.

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**I'VE BEEN NOMINATED FOR THIS ONESHOT in the Fourth Annual Wicked Awards, and couldn't be happier! Thank you so much to everyone for nominating me! Now, if you could VOTE for me, too...well, that would be wonderful :)**** just click the link on my profile page!**


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